Strangers
by TheRealRogue
Summary: Rogue and Gambit. They meet for the first time after what happened in Antarctica.


Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men or anything at all.

Note: hi guys! Before starting, I want to say I'm reading the comics for the very first time and I'm in late 1998 right now, and Gambit is about to come back after the Antarctica thing, but he hasn't yet. So I wrote this not knowing yet how that'll go. I mean I know how it goes 20 years later, yay! But anyway. Also, this is the first time I post in the comics category, I had always done it in X-Men Evo, so I'm a bit scared XD Also! As I always say every five years when I post a fic, please keep on mind English is not my native language. Thanks!

Oneshot title: Strangers.

Just another one. She'd quit later.

It was a bit chilly outside in the balcony, but it was worth it. She lit up another one, the third one that day, and held on to that relief nicotine spread more than in her lungs, in her mind. She'd made sure there was no one who could see her out there over the mansion's carpet green fields. Not in the mood to give any explanations whatsoever. Let alone about this.

Another puff entered her system. It was both calming and disgusting. Only calming if she tried to shut her brain off.

"Shit!"

She put out the cigarette right away and got rid of it somewhere in a corner of the balcony. There was a second knock on her room's door as she rushed her way there, fanning around herself all the while knowing how useless and dumb it was to do it.

"We missed you at the Danger Room session". Still in her field uniform, Storm followed Rogue inside.

"Sorry, I wasn't feeling so good."

"Breathing problems, perhaps?" Words stumbled against one another in Rogue's throat, though she knew Ororo wasn't being sarcastic. There was, instead, a certain… sadness in her face: "He wouldn't give up on it, no matter how much you or I insisted".

"Yeah…" The pack of cigarettes was nowhere to be seen, at least: "I'll quit later".

"Of course". Still the sad look. But it was then gone: "I don't appreciate playing the mailman, Rogue, but I'll do it this time. Just this one time. He wants to see you".

_He_. Anyone rarely dared to pronounce his name in the house anymore. It was the forbidden topic (or one of them), the word you couldn't say out loud.

_Gambit. _

_ Remy_.

That well known fever sensation, the one she'd spent most nights crawling in, hit her up at the mention of him. Even if his name was omitted, as if people were trying to omit… him.

"He's…. alive? He's okay?"

"He is. He'll be at Harry's Hideaway today at six."

"Oh." Rogue could hear her hear beating strong in her left ear. "Thanks for telling me."

"I care about you both, Rogue. And you know he was one of my dearest friends." _Was._ "Someone I trusted with my life many times. We all did."

"But?"

"But nothing. Just bringing some memories back. Sometimes they're all we have left".

(…)

This was the eighth one today, she was keeping track. She'd never made it to ten, but it looked like this right here might now be the day. Or evening. It was almost completely dark when she left the car in the minimarket's lot and headed to walk down those couple of blocks.

Did she have the right to have been worried about him, after she was the one who left him in the middle of nowhere? Did he have the right to ask her to meet him, after what he did? After they found out what he did? No and no. And which one was worse? Can we weigh our actions to see if we're better or worse than others? Does it even matter? These and other absurd questions had eaten away at her brain for over two months now, and this day… this evening had arrived. None of them knew it. Not that lady who pushed a baby carriage, not those teens smoking over there (it's so bad for them, right?), not those people driving by. They had no idea Rogue had a huge void inside, yanking at her and threatening to swallow her whole.

She didn't even notice the music, or anything else around. Because there was his face, on that side of the bar where they always used to sit.

It was as if time hadn't passed. It was as if a hundred years had passed.

She sat by his side, all the while pushing away a flash of a memory of how close they had been once. Only once.

He was the first to cut through the almost solid air around them:

"You've been smokin'."

With all of the stuff, she hadn't noticed she was still carrying the lighter and the cigarettes in one had. So she hurried to shove them inside her bag:

"What gave me away?"

"Hey kids! Hadn't seen you two around here in a while". Harry received no answer, but as an experienced bartender, he knew when it was best to leave people to their businesses: "What can I get you?"

"Just a beer."

"Same."

He was wearing his gloves, the same ones he had when… It was one of the last things she saw of him, before she… Good thing they got served light beer. She didn't think she'd be able to take more than a sip or two.

"So we're not here to talk about the weather, are we?" He didn't reply anything. Instead, she could feel his gaze on her, piercing through. "I left you to die."

"I know."

Now would be a good moment for the ninth one. And same way she would shut her brain off when she had a smoke, she shut it off to burst out the words she needed to say; she didn't want to, but she needed to:

"I'm sorry."

"I know. You can look me in the eye, Rogue."

She did. His hair was loose and slightly longer, and it looked like he hadn't shaved in four, maybe five days.

"You could have died."

"Well I didn't."

He wouldn't get his eyes off of her for an instant, not even when taking a large sip from the beer.

"So why did you ask me to come here? To hear me say I'm sorry?"

He shook his head: "We've both carried our share of guilt. No need to add more to it."

"Hm. Guilt is a… messed up thing." They were playing a soccer game in that TV no one was paying attention to. Rogue was looking at it, but not really seeing it: "I felt yours. Your regret for what you did. You had no peace…"

Remy looked away for the first time since she entered the room.

"You asked me why I asked you to come. Not to hear your apology, _non_. I thought maybe to apologize myself, again. Or for no reason." Eyes on her again, and she had no choice but to face his stare one more time: "I wanted to see… you. That's all I've got." She didn't have much either. Just her own self, but a little more messed up; a little less trusting and way more tired than ever. "What y' say we go outside and have one?" he gestured towards his own pack of cigarettes, laying there besides the glass bottle.

(…)

Harry would usually kick out of his property those who dared sit and drink over the window's frame out there. You're either in the bar or out of it entirely. But not those kids. They were having it rough, he could tell.

"I thought a lot about what to say. When this day came."

Oddly enough, it wasn't as cold as expected. And not too windy.

"Didn't y' think I was dead?"

He offered to light up one for her. She came just an inch closer.

"Thanks. Maybe I figured you'd find a way. You always do."

"Well, next time y' wanna kill ol' Gambit, maybe try harder."

"That's not funny."

"Y' sure?"

Not a lot of places where to hide your stare in this corner of Salem Center. Only a stray cat she followed with her eyes for a while, until it got lost in the dark.

"And maybe we don't have to talk bout anything in particular" he continued: "Maybe we can just be two people who're having beer and a smoke together, for the first time."

It was more calming than ever. Like being hit by a hurricane, then being in the eye of it and suddenly realizing the storm was gone all of a sudden, leaving, yes, a mess, but at least the air was quieter and breathable.

"Yeah. Maybe we can… be that."

She'd quite later, for sure. Maybe soon.

END.

Note: for this fic, I got inspired by the songs "Strangers", by The Kinks, and more specifically by a video on Youtube with the song and scenes from the movie The Royal Tenenbaums. If you check it out, you'll see why. Also Rogue's line "I'll quit later", I took it from one of my fav movies ever, Lost in Translation. Also, the thing with the smoking, I don't mention it in the story as such, but you probably thought that Rogue got that after kissing Remy during the trial, and you are right. Thanks for reading!


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